Wendover Wednesday

It was a Wendover Wednesday. Jess, Gus, and I pointed the Focus west on I-80 for a overnight getaway to a Utah's arch-nemesis and geographical anti-crist, Nevada. The quickest sip of sin city is Wendover, a true butt-hole of a town. People actually live here? Oh my God.

Quickly, we struck fear into the buffet at the Peppermill Casino. It was mostly Jess. I was partially satiated from a couple fried chicken legs and a pocket-sized eclair pie from several hours earlier, so I had the first-person perspective on the stages of Jess' buffet experience. It began with anticipation, then led to elation, then determination, then remorse.

Afterwards, the remorse was all the Peppermill's, as we laid waste to their most complex mechanisms of heathen gambling. First, Jess attacked the quarter slots for a net gain of 20 dollars. Then I brazenly took the video poker machine for another 5. Finally, it was the penny slots that gave out, and dumped another 10 bucks into our severely swollen pockets. Like taking money from a baby.

Just to prove that the pillaging wasn't over, the next morning we ate lots of waffles at the Day's Inn for free! Well, they come with the motel room, but nonetheless, they felt a little free because we didn't have to buy breakfast anywhere else.

Oh, yeah, the photos are from the Bonneville Salt Flats, just outside Wendover. We hung out there are played ball with Gussy until his paws bled. Ouch! He had fun, though, and is pretty tired right now.